


In The Name of Freedom

by CompletelyDifferent



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mind Manipulation, and the lack thereof, something edging dangerously close to self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 13:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11692896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompletelyDifferent/pseuds/CompletelyDifferent
Summary: Pearl isn't sure if she wants to love a baby, all messy and loud and above all else, not Rose.Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to have much of a choice in the matter.





	In The Name of Freedom

Names were important.

Most humans had forgotten this. Thought they were simply labels, a convenient way of telling one thing or person apart from another. But names were more than that. They reflected a true part of a being’s nature. And if you knew someone’s nature — knew their Name — you could control them.

* * *

In the past, in some cultures, babies were not named until their first birthday. They had to prove themselves capable of surviving a full year, before they were truly considered a person and invited into the family.

After the initial birth, that was how long Pearl waited before she went to see Rose’s child again.

Not because it hurt. Not because she couldn’t bear to look at the baby. Not because she spent most days curled up in a ball in her room. Not because part of her wondered, if the baby did die, whether the essence and the power Rose Quartz had poured into the child would return to its original owner —

No. She waited because it was traditional.

Besides, Garnet and Amethyst were going too, so Pearl could hardly stay behind.

They were officially the baby’s three godparents, and with this came certain duties. Part of this was the blessings, which the three Fae all gave. But they also gave gifts perhaps more precious than those: names.

The baby already had two: Steven Universe. But that was woefully inadequate.

Middle names. Now there was another invention that humanity had forgotten the function of. The entire reason people had started using them in the first place was to ward off the influence of Fae, and other magic users with ill intent. They were meant to be kept secret, held away from all but those one trusted completely. People could not use your Name against you, if they did not know all of it.

There weren’t a lot of Fae on this plane, at least not anymore. But perhaps one day that would change, so the Crystal Court had sworn to be prepared. They would give the baby _three_ middle names, to make him all the safer.

Amethyst named him after a human, one she was fond of. Garnet named him something random, which would be hard to guess. Pearl named him something poetic, befitting Rose’s blood.

Pearl held the child in her arms as she announced his new name with the quiet solemnity such a moment deserved.

He gurgled at her and blew a spit bubble.

To Pearl’s own surprise, she found herself smiling down at Steven Universe.

* * *

Steven was a delightful child.

This wasn’t an opinion or exaggeration. It was fact. Steven’s mere presence caused delight in all who met him.

Greg, of course, loved his son — and while he could get frustrated after a long, sleepless night, or when he’d been vomited on for the third time that day, or tripped over some baby toy strewn carelessly on the ground — he never seemed to get angry at him.

Amethyst could spend hours with Steven, entertaining him by transforming her face and body into all sorts of hilarious animal shapes, mixing and matching them. The baby would laugh and clap and make stumbling attempts at words, and Amethyst would congratulate him as if he’d made some amazing accomplishment.

Garnet would cradle him in her arms, lulling him to sleep with quiet, well-rehearsed humming, or else distracting him with with conjured sparkles. Sometimes Steven would reach out to grab them. Other times, he’d wrap his little fist around one of Garnet’s fingers, and even though she could, objectively, easily get out of his hold and break his bones for good measure, Garnet would simply comment on how _strong_ he was.

But this was just the baby’s immediate family. Such affection was natural, and to be expected. It was the way strangers reacted. They’d stop to look at him on the street. They’d coo about how he was the cutest baby they had ever seen, even with their own children in strollers a few feet away. They’d offer him toys and other gifts, completely unprompted. Once, on a long bus ride, Steven, scared by the loud engine and the rumbling beneath, had burst into tears. Instead of being annoyed at the painful shrieks and cries, the whole bus had reassured Greg that _no, no, it’s quite alright, don’t even worry about it_ , and practically tripped over themselves to comfort the poor boy. Not because he was annoying, but because they simply could not bear to see him sad.

Everyone loved Steven.

Even Pearl.

This troubled her. Something was happening here.

Something uncanny.

* * *

Greg had reassured Pearl that it was all perfectly normal. “People love babies,” Greg had simply said. “Built into us.”

But Steven did not remain a baby, and as he grew, so did people’s love for him.

Garnet saw it too. The vaguely distant look people could sometimes get in their eyes when playing with him. How if Steven asked for something, he would receive it, no matter what. How people would go out of their way to please him, common sense be damned.

Rose had always been very Charming, and her child was too, it seemed.

Only Rose had known how to control her Charm, and had worked hard to hone the morals not to use it on the unsuspecting. A toddler had no such things.

There was something perhaps more troubling still. The way the world seemed to bend to him. Not to his will, but to his beliefs. And the beliefs of a young child were powerful things indeed.

The colorful cartoon characters he watched on TV ended up visiting him for tea parties, somehow turned three dimensional. The monsters Steven wailed about in the night really did hide under his bed or in his closet, and it was more often than not up to Pearl to valiantly vanquish them. Every cat in his vicinity became a girl, every dog a boy.

There were precautions to be made. Things that would have effectively bound any regular Fae, or even killed them, but which, thanks to Steven’s dual nature, would merely mute his abilities. Garnet and Amethyst could not implement them — the attempt might cause serious injuries. Greg could have done it, being fully human, but, quite frankly, Pearl didn’t trust him not to mess it up.

Pearl had been human once, long ago. And although that humanity had long faded under the many layers of enchantments forced upon her, there was still enough to give her some immunity. So she was the one who wove bracelets of rowan and hazel, even if they left an unpleasant itch under her skin. She was the one who forged a necklace of iron, thinking of Bismuth’s lessons all the while, even if it left her hands red as if burned. She was the one who laid the first salt circle around Steven’s bed, Greg watching her do it, even if it made her mouth taste like seawater for a week.

It seemed to work. Strangers’ eyes weren’t automatically drawn to Steven when he walked down the boardwalk. If Steven went into the store and asked for a donut, the cashier would only give it to him if he paid first. If people laughed at Steven’s jokes, it was only because they were genuinely funny.

But still. It wasn’t enough. Pearl was certain of it.

Garnet found her one early morning, the day after Steven had turned six. She was out at an old family barn of Greg’s, hammering at cold iron with all her strength. Pearl didn’t notice her at first, so preoccupied in her chore, and practically screamed when she finally saw Garnet standing in the door frame.

“Get out of here!” she snapped, waving a hand at all the iron surrounding them. “It’s dangerous for you.”

“It’s dangerous for you as well,” Garnet said.

“I’m fine,” Pearl protested.

Garnet simply stared at her, moving her gaze slowly down to Pearl’s hands.

Normally unblemished white, like porcelain, now they were covered in ugly red blisters, some bleeding fresh. There were other markings too, where the cold iron had happened to touch — at her waist, along her arms, her cheek —

“It doesn’t hurt,” Pearl lied.

Garnet’s face was stony. She did not move until, finally, Pearl put down the hammer and stepped away from the anvil.

“This isn’t necessary,” Garnet said.

“It is.”

“Steven’s powers have been contained. Spoons full of vegetables have stopped turning into airplanes just because he thinks it. People aren’t being controlled by him. Everything’s fine.”

“It’s not, though —” Pearl protested, her face turning blue from the rush of nameless emotions. “The way you all act around him — playing, cuddling —”

Garnet shrugged. “He’s a cute kid.”

“He’s more than _cute_. He’s —”

_Adorable. Sweet. Charming. When I see him, I just want to hold him close. I want to hover over him, and make sure his hands are clean and that he hasn’t gotten into any trouble. I want nothing more than to make him smile —_

“He’s doing something to me,” Pearl choked. “He’s making me — _feel_ things. I know what that’s like. He’s controlling me.”

Because he had to be. He had to. Because Steven was messy, and noisy, and confusing, and obnoxious. He was the son of Greg Universe. He was the son of Rose Quartz, the son that she’d died for, the son she’d left them all behind for —

He _had_ to be — doing something to her —

Garnet stepped forward, and placed a heavy hand on Pearl’s shoulder.

“He’s not controlling you,” Garnet said. “He can’t be.”

“How do you _know that -_?” Pearl said, anger burning like the tears in her eyes.

“Because Rose made sure he couldn’t,” she said. “It was in the terms of the ceremony she used to re-name you.”

And Pearl could hear those words ringing in her ear, as loudly as the day they’d first been spoken, hundreds of years ago:

_“I name you the Knight of the Roses. Brought from the very brink of eternal winter, forever free of its clutches. Bound to my service and no-one else’s until I consider the tenets of our exchange satisfied.”_

Rose had freed her from Winter’s command — and freed her of all other’s control. Forever.

Pearl shook her head. “But — that makes no sense!”

“It does.” Garnet wiped a tear off Pearl’s face. “You know it does. Pearl, if you love Steven, it’s only of your own free will.”

Pearl stared at her friend, blinking.

Then she collapsed into Garnet’s chest and, sobbing, let herself be held the way she hadn’t been since Rose had died.

* * *

Garnet’s words had lifted a heavy burden from Pearl’s shoulders, but not removed her suspicions completely. Because there was still one possibility Garnet had not considered — or perhaps, simply not voiced — that nonetheless preyed at Pearl, that left her staring at the night sky, lost deep in thought. Another reason she could love Steven as much as she did.

Over a week passed before Pearl summoned the courage to put her theory to the test.

Greg was working at the carwash. Garnet was on a mission. Amethyst was off doing who-knew-what. In a rare chance, Steven had been left completely alone in Pearl’s care.

The boy was sprawled out on the floor, playing with some dolls. An expression of intent concentration was fixed on his face, only occasionally disrupted by frowns or peals of laughter as he acted out his toys’ busy lives.

Sitting on a chair a little ways away, Pearl straightened. In her loudest, clearest voice, she said, “Steven Vidalia Motorcycle Wild-growth Universe.”

He looked up, and blinked at her.

“I command you to stand on one leg,” Pearl ordered.

“Why?” asked Steven.

“B —because I said so!”

Steven frowned. “But I’m playing.”

“You can play later. Now, I command you, Steven Motorcycle Vidalia Wild-growth Universe, to stand on one leg.”

His frowned deepened. “But I don’t wanna.”

Pearl could have pressed. But it would have been pointless. The point had been proven.

He hadn’t responded to his Name.

_He hadn’t responded to his Name._

But all things responded to their Name. That was how it worked. If he could disobey it, then it meant —

— that wasn’t his Name, after all.

But of course not. Of course. They’d gotten the being’s nature all wrong. This was not a human, so of course a human name would not work. Perhaps this wasn’t even a child, in the traditional sense. A child’s body, perhaps; a new kind of glamour, one which ran so deep as to affect even memories and personality, but beneath it all, still Rose, still —

“The Rose Whose Beauty Enraptures Even As Her Thorns Pierce,” Pearl said, and again, at the name, the child looked up at her. “If you are so Named, I command you to stand on one leg.”

There was a moment that seemed to stretch for an infinity.

And then Steven cocked his head. “Is this a game or something?”

“No,” said Pearl. “No! This is not a game!”

“‘Cuz I’ll stand on one leg if we’re playing Simon Says —”

Pearl buried her face in her hand, still blistered, now bandaged.

He hadn’t responded to his own Name. He hadn’t responded to his mother’s Name.

Who was he? _What_ was he?

She felt something poke her leg.

“Pearl?” a small voice said. “Pearl, are you okay?”

She removed her hand and looked down at him. “I’m not sure,” she admitted.

“Oh.” Steven seemed to consider this for a moment, then said, “Sorry I didn’t stand on my leg like you said. I can do it now if you want.”

Pearl closed her eyes. “No. No, you don’t need to. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”

He didn’t say anything, and Pearl couldn’t look at him. Not until he thrust something at her. She took it with clumsy hands. It was one of his dolls. It had golden blonde hair and a big, smiley face. “Then do you wanna play with Sarah Sunlight? She helps me feel better.”

“... alright,” Pearl agreed at last, and went to join him on the floor.

Maybe, for now, those questions didn’t really matter.


End file.
